


Coffee and Chocolate

by Jerevinan



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Blow Jobs, Body Calligraphy, Chocolate, Edible Body Paint, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 09:19:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11205027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jerevinan/pseuds/Jerevinan
Summary: Words can mean a little more when Ignis writes them across Noctis' skin.





	Coffee and Chocolate

The body paint is smooth, the scent of dark chocolate and coffee heavy in the air as soon as Ignis unscrews the cap. He dips a finger into it. The blend is no thicker than if someone had melted a chocolate bar, droplets plopping back down into the jar. This one doesn’t require heat to keep its liquid form.

The flavor reminds him of the delicious samplings from a candy shop that Regis used to bring every once in a while to the nursery, when Noctis and Ignis were small. The chocolate factory broke off the chunks into little pebble-sized pieces and sold them by the pound in its shop. Ignis sometimes goes there on his own for chocolate covered coffee beans and chocolate bricks he uses for baking. 

The body paint earns Ignis’ approval—nostalgia is a powerful stimulator, especially when it comes to all things related to Noctis. The taste is perfect for something he plans to lick off every inch of Noctis’ skin.

Noctis lies across Ignis’ bed, having freed himself of all clothing.

“Is it good?” asks Noctis.

Ignis nods. “You should try it.”

“No way, not with coffee in it.”

“It’s subtle,” says Ignis. If there is one flaw in the paint, it would be the lack of coffee flavor. Maybe instead of ordering some, next time Ignis will attempt his own recipe.

“It won’t dry up fast, will it?”

“No, it’s designed to remain smooth.” Ignis fetches one of the thick brushes from his bedside table. He dips it into the mixture, allowing the access to drip off the tip as it hovers over the bottle. “Shall we begin?”

Noctis nods and rolls over onto his stomach, his pale ass raised teasingly. Ignis leans in and considers what he’ll write—nothing too romantic or cheesy. He should choose something with heat, something that will capture Noctis’ attention and keep it before Ignis can lap the chocolate from his skin.

The paint brush lowers to a shoulder blade. Noctis shudders as a blot marks the skin. 

“Heh, tickles a little.”

Ignis pauses, bristles still touching. “Stop?”

“No, keep going.”

Ignis swishes the brush, “Mine” written in lovely cursive from one shoulder to the next. He waits a beat, not only to consider his next word or phrase, but to see if Noctis has figured it out by touching alone.

Noctis’ tone is biting and impatient. “What’s it say?”

“‘Mine’,” says Ignis, forceful and with authority. 

Noctis shifts, his breath hitching.

“Mm, do you like that?” asks Ignis, purring into Noctis’ ear as he bends close. 

Noctis nods, once.

The next phrase comes to mind. “And I’m yours,” he writes as he says it out loud, the brush swirling more body paint across the skin. It takes up two lines to write it beneath the first word, and it rests an inch above the scar marring Noctis’ back.

Noctis’ fingers curl into a pillow.

“I’m always yours,” Ignis adds before lowering his tongue to the cleft of Noctis’ ass. 

“Fu-fuck, Ignis…”

Ignis runs his tongue up Noctis’ spine, dipping it through the chocolate words and smearing them. Beneath him, there’s a shudder, and Noctis moans with each stroke as Ignis erases the words. He wants to write promises between Noctis’ legs, on the inside of his thigh, to run the brush across his cock and lap up chocolate as it mixes with come—that would taste divine, the salty flavor blending with the body paint. 

But first, he sets the bottle and brush on the beside table so he can grip Noctis’ sides and ravish the words from his body. The reactions he receives make him hard, and as he leans in to lick “Mine” from the shoulders, his cock brushes against Noctis and makes him arch up toward it, needful.

Ignis’ hips involuntarily thrust in response before he can control himself.

“Stop distracting me,” says Ignis, slapping Noctis’ ass hard with a palm and leaving a mark he can’t lick away. 

He flips Noctis over and takes up the bottle and brush. He locks eyes with him as he leaves a trace of chocolate across his bottom lip. Noctis inhales sharply as they meet for a brief kiss. A kiss turns into sucking and then Ignis lowers his teeth to the skin. Fingers rummage through his hair, seeking strands long enough to grip, and a moan presses up the prince’s throat and leaves hot breath against his skin.

Ignis writes more—swishes the brush into slanderous words, calling Noctis a “filthy prince” in cursive across his belly. He leaves hearts on the inside of his thighs and leaves one thick, dark stroke over Noctis’s cock as the last one before he laps it all up and makes them come together.

He returns the body paint and brush to the bedside table before he settles himself between Noctis’ legs, one hand on each of his shoulders.

His leaves the “filthy prince” and focuses on the hearts, tongue licking them away and leaving bite marks in their places. He can feel Noctis’ legs tense with each nip, and Noctis has to stuff a hand in his mouth to smother his cries. 

He cups Noctis’ balls and kneads gently with one hand and wraps his fingers around the base of his cock. Ignis laps up the mixture of pre-come and chocolate at the head before he wraps his mouth around, his tongue swirling around from base to tip, bobbing in rhythm with every jerk of Noctis’ hips. Each thrust forces a blend of coffee, chocolate, and pre-come deeper into his mouth.

The chocolate tastes less bitter as Noctis comes, spurting into Ignis’ mouth and across his lips. Ignis wipes the excess off with the back of his palm and leans in for a kiss. Noctis meets him halfway, arms slipping around his neck. 

“Fuck me, Ignis,” he whispers in a way that makes certain Ignis can’t deny him.

Ignis fumbles between the desperate, hungry kisses for the bottle of lube and the packs of condoms in his drawer. He covers his fingertips generously and slides them inside Noctis, spreading him out.

“Rougher, Ignis.”

Ignis obliges, stretching his two fingers in jerky, cruel movements, his wrist flicking to jam them deep. Noctis moans and rips open the condom packet with his teeth. He gestures impatiently, and with a wet smack, removes his fingers so Noctis can put on the condom, unrolling it impatiently across his length. 

He pauses and stares up at Ignis, and the look in his eyes is full of need and lust and affection. Ignis kisses him one last time before he forces him on his back with a hand against his chest. His fingers pull apart Noctis’ ass cheeks and he guides himself inside his lover. 

The first thrust causes Noctis to reach behind him, gripping a pillow until his knuckles whiten. His hips raise off the mattress as Ignis plunges his cock deeper and deeper. 

Ignis wants to be closer, to leave more kisses and loving words across Noctis’ skin, to hold him in his arms as they make love together. But this rough sex makes Noctis hard for a second time, makes him cry out. Ignis would do anything within reason to see Noctis content.

Ignis circles his hips, eyes closing as he gets nearer to coming. He focuses on the sounds: the slap of flesh against flesh, the shaky moans, the way Noctis gasps for breath before Ignis’ dick sends him spiraling closer to orgasm.

They come in close succession—Noctis first, his seed spilling across his belly and trickling across the words that accuse him of being a“filthy prince”. After this, he is most certainly dirty. Ignis releases, his cock pumping inside Noctis. 

Ignis catches his breath and allows his softened dick to slide out, his fingers rubbing Noctis’ come and the body paint together until the insult is indiscernable.

Noctis sits up and reaches out to stroke Ignis’ face with the back of his hand. He’s smiling, a light, sleepy look on his face.

“Pretty good,” he admits. “Next time, I’ll write on you.”

“Is that so?” Ignis leans in and kisses his mouth sloppily. Noctis isn’t the only one who is getting tired. “And what would you write?”

Noctis’ face reddens, and he tries to scowl but it looks more like a pout. “I don’t know. Something.”

“That I’m yours?” asks Ignis, hopeful. He doesn’t want to be anyone else’s—not for all of eternity.

Noctis grins and rests his head against Ignis’ shoulder. 

“Yeah, always.”

**Author's Note:**

> So I talked about this on tumblr a few days ago, and it was obvious that I'd write this. But uh. I changed some things, switched them around. It didn't want to write itself the way I first imagined it, which...is okay?
> 
> I want to see this done with older Ignis, when he's blind and his other senses are sharper. Bet Noctis can't get a word past him. He'll try to write fast and tiny and Ignis will catch every letter. And then punish him with kisses? :')
> 
> ...but I also am lazy and don't want to write that, ahaha


End file.
